Layers of lies, layers of truth
by Necchan
Summary: 3rd in the "Love Until We Bleed" series. Robin has been running himself ragged for weeks, trying to get a glimpse of Jason. But it's Caroline Hill, medical student, who finds him. And the encouter suddenly puts EVERYTHING into perspective for Tim...


**Title: **Layers of lies, layers of truth.

**Fandom:** DCU- Batman.

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Genre: **Emotional, I guess.

**Wordcount: **3336.

**Characters/Pairings: **Jason/Tim and Caroline Hill/Jason.

**Warnings: **Robin Cross dressing (which is totally canon, BTW), slash masquerading as het, swearing words, mentions of child abuse and illicit activities.

**Summary: **Carolin eonly hoped that the suspect she was tallying would show up before dawn. That would leave Robin enough time to sweep in and teach a lesson or two to the resident gangs, before Tim had to pack his bag and go to school.

**Note: **Third in the "(love) Until We Bleed" series. In this 'verse, Tim is on the prowl for his very own Jaybird, but Jay's got a very bad cause of the denial.

**Note 2:** Probably everyone knows this, but "Caroline Hill" is an alter-ego of Tim. "She"'ll be referred to as girl through the fic, because that's what Jay thinks "she" is.

* * *

><p><strong>I<strong>t wouldn't have been accurate to say that Caroline Hill hated her job.

She couldn't deny it _frustrated_ her, being stuck at the medical shelter in the wee hours of the night, scampering from an emergency room to the other as fast as her aching feet allowed. But her frustration had more to do with the ridiculously outdated equipment she had at disposal, rather than any ache, lack of sleep or caffeine deprivation she was suffering from. It also had _everything_ to do with the fact that being a nurse _was not her job._

She was there on loaned time, and as much as the other volunteers appreciated the help, she knew she could do them more good out on the streets, swinging through rooftops as was her routine. Nurse-wannabe Caroline _was_ a God-sent for the people of the not-quite legal shelter of this suburb. But Robin patrolling the area? That would've prevented the majority of the wounds they had had to treat through the night. And that only if she gave Robin half the credit he was due.

She only hoped that the suspect she was tallying would show up before dawn. That would leave Robin enough time to sweep in and teach a lesson or two to the resident gangs, before Tim had to pack his bag and go to school.

_Talk about split personalities, _a voice inside "her" mind mused, and Caroline had to contain a snort when she realized exactly who that wickedly amused rumble belonged to. She had to be more tired than estimated, if her conscious took on _his_ voice rather than Bruce's.

Shaking her head in silent amusement, Caroline slipped out of the back door into a dimly-lit alley. She'd informed an handful of other nurses that she was taking a five-minute break, and told them to give her a holler if she was needed. She felt a twinge of guilt for sneaking away, despite the lull that had come upon the shelter. But she _was_ high strung with tension and exhausted at the same time, and needed a moment alone to collect her thoughts.

Now that she was out, the chilly wind slapping her hair against her cheeks was doing wonders to wake her up. She breathed in deep, and was pleased to detect the trace of something nice and spine-tingling amid the reeking odours of the alley. She blew the air out slowly, trying to capture and catalogue the scent. Something like... aftershave? And leather. And...

"...who the fuck are you, new face?"

Caroline started, and it was only dumb luck that allowed her to contain both her instinctive outcry and her defensive karate move. She pivoted on her heel when she heard the gun being cocked, and when she came face to face with the intruder, all the air was immediately sucked from her lungs. Not that the mix of leather, blood, and aftershave hadn't already tipped her, but the red helmet gleaming threateningly at her from a cluster of shadows was a dead give away.

Suddenly, she felt like laughing. Or yelling. She could already feel a sound bubbling up her throat, and whatever its nature, she forced it down. She had been running herself ragged for _weeks,_ trying desperately for any sort contact with him (really, even glimpsing his shadow on a distant rooftop might have been a start. Not enough, but a _start),_ and the jerk had the gall to let himself be caught when she was in a skirt and wearing make-up and hitching because of the wig and couldn't either slap him silly or kiss him senseless because it would blow her cover.

"I asked you a question."

Caroline frowned. The Red Hood was holding himself stiffly, and there was something in his stance that wasn't natural. He didn't seem to be sporting any visible wound, but she couldn't be sure.

"I... are you _hurt?"_

Red Hood waved the gun in an impatient gesture.

"Answer my question, and I'll answer yours. Maybe. It's all about manners."

"I..." Was she supposed to stammer? Play the part of the nurse who cared more about her duty to help those in need, than her own life? She centred herself with a little shake of her head, narrowed her eyes into slits. She never had to fake either the irritation or the concern whenever it came to Jason, so it was easy to summon a bit of both and let them show in her posture. "I'm Caroline. Caroline Hill. I'm a medical student a Gotham U, and I'm giving a hand here for the night. Are you...?"

"That's not what I asked." He cast a quick glance behind him. There was a tightness in his shoulders now, that spoke of something dark and ugly, like vengeance and rage and helpless frustration. "Are you a safe one?"

"I..." The question caught her off-guard. "I don't... I mean... _what_?"

"Can I _trust_ _you?"_

_Great._ The _one_ question Tim had ever wanted Jason to ask, and he was asking it at the totally wrong time, not to mention the totally wrong_persona. _That didn't make the answer any less true, though. A bit more hesitant, perhaps, but still honest.

"_Yes."_

Jason snorted at her earnest tone, a sound that the helmet distorted into something cold and sharp and eerily metallic, like the blade of a well-used knife. He looked like he was about to answer her, when the back door opened again, sending a sliver of cold neon light tumbling across the cheap alley.

One of the medics, an old man with a bad limp and intent, war-veteran eyes appeared in the doorway. His eyes flickered between the two of them, then narrowed in a look that would've made Bruce, or perhaps Alfred, run for his money. He pushed the door open wide, and used his cane to gesture impatiently at them.

"I'm handling this... _Caroline_, was it? I think Theo needs your help back at the entrance. Be a doll and go check on him. J, do me a favour and come in already. The new girl's a temp, but she's not going to tattle."

Caroline glanced between the two of them with growing suspicion. J? New girl? Tattle? Did Jason show up here on a regular basis, or...?

"Any time tonight, kids."

Caroline didn't move. Jason's chest expanded with a deep, deep breath. He wavered for a moment. Then his gun flickered out of view, and before Caroline had time to blink, Jason had dropped on one knee, hoisted something up in his arms, and stepped out of the shadows.

The body was too bony to guess its gender, and so, so _small._ A child, by the looks of it; with dark red hair that was long and tangled, coiled in greasy ropes across shoulders and face. The lips were grey, the skin pale where it wasn't covered in bruises, and glistening with a sheen of sweat. The clothes were just rags, holed and covered with stains. The little chest fluttered up and down much too fast for comfort.

When Jason moved, the child whimpered, a thin sound like cracking glass. A red-smeared hand shot up, curled into Jason's shirt and held on, as wide green eyes swept around like panicked birds. The child pressed back into Jason, whimpering something like: "with you. Promised. With _you."._ And Jason... Jason grumbled something quick and rough but surprisingly soothing to the child, cradling the bony bundle so carefully it made something hitch inside Caroline's chest.

He hastened past her with only a backward glance, brief and impossible to decipher due to the helmet. On impulse, she followed him, the sound of his footsteps, as he manoeuvred across the rooms with obvious familiarity. His voice was like the low rumbling of engine, a simpering brew of hurt and _rage_ that made her wince every so often. Not slowing once, Jason told the doctor all about an abandoned compound, of drugs and abuse and pimps, of children stolen from home and starved into submission.

When he gently lowered the child onto one of those stained, second-hands stretchers the shelter had at disposal, the little body made a soft little gasp, shuddered all over, arching off the lurid sheet, and went still.

"NO!" Jason ripped the helmet off and flung it away. He grabbed the child's chin and forced it back, so that the mouth fell open. His pounding on the little chest looked too violent, the way he pushed air into the child's mouth looked like it ought to bruise, but even as the Doctor donned his gloves, shouted imperiously for vials and IVs and _make it quick!, _there was a small sound, cracked and pitiful, lashes fluttering, and then Jason was given a pat on the back and pushed away from the stretcher.

Within seconds, the child was rolled out of the room. Jason was left standing, looking at his arms as if the emptiness made them _ache_, and he wasn't sure what to make of them. At long last, his fingers began to curl, slowly clenching into fists. His arms were shaking with suppressed rage when he slammed the first punch into the wall.

"_Fuck."_ A second punch._"_Should've got there sooner." A third. "Should've... _fuck_. " He rounded like a wild animal when Caroline gingerly touched his shoulder. His hand twitched instinctively and _curled,_ like he was holding a throwing knife. "New face," he snarled. "I think the doctor told you to _scram_."

Even with the mask, his face was easy to read. Caroline wanted nothing more but to hold or be held by him, though she wasn't sure whom she wanted to comfort. Swallowing the urge, she tugged onto his wrists, with an air of no-nonsense about her that he would've recognized, had he been in his right state of mind.

"And I think you need some treatment. Come on. I'll have a look at you."

She herded him into an adjacent room. She was surprised by his compliance only until perching on the table made him hiss painfully through his teeth. Not one second after, she was on him, stripping him and cursing him for hiding that sort of injury. Oddly enough, Jason started to chuckle, looking at her with a sparkle of his usual amusement lurking in the back of his too-weary eyes, and Caroline... Caroline choose exactly that moment to tune in to the fact that she was all but straddling him, and forcing him out of his clothes.

He laughed at her sudden retreat, and she glared only until he winced again. Gingerly, she put a hand on his chest, silently counting the cracked ribs and moaning in her head as they kept adding up and up and _up_. There was a nasty bruise on his right side that was swelling entirely too quickly, and a couple of burns where bullets had grazed him through the kevlar. Of course, his knuckles sported all sort of abuse, as if he'd been punching his way through walls the whole night.

She walked hastily towards the emergency tray they kept in every room. She needed bandages. Lots of those. Burn cream, an antiseptic, something to stop the swelling, sterile gauze. Tape? Saline? Was he even bleeding? For some reason, it was a little harder to think clearly than it should have been. She yanked an emesis basin towards her, dumped everything she thought she might need inside it, and walked back to her patient.

She settled to work as professionally as she could, but a hint of her internal struggle (was she worried? Angry? What, exactly? Oh, _Jason...)_must've shown on her face, because Jason began to chuckle drily at her after only a few moments.

"Sweet of you to care, New face. But if this looks bad to you, wait until you see _them."_

Caroline stilled.

"Do I _want_ to?" She glanced up at his suddenly attentive face, taking a deep breath. Concentrate. "Are they even _alive?"_

Jason's look darkened.

"Unfortunately," he confirmed. "It was either kill 'hem, or save the kid. In my book, that wasn't even a _choice."_

Caroline nodded, letting a measure of her relief show through.

"You're some sort of vigilante, then?"

"Some sort."

"Do you come here often?"

Jason shrugged.

"Nah. I can take care of myself just fine."

"The doctors seem to know you," she pointed out, glaring at Jason when he shrugged again, ruining her handiwork.

"I usually don't need treatment. But sometimes there are these people I... _find,_" he wavered on the word, oddly loathe to define his nightly ventures as rescue operations. _"They_ need help, and it's not like I can drop them off at Gotham General, right? So the closest shelter has to make do." He shrugged again, as if to say: it keeps them alive, so it works for me.

Caroline nodded, pensively. She was done wrapping his ribs, and for a minute or so, she did nothing but lean against him, chest to chest, her nose brushing against his collarbone. He smelled warm and alive, and she'd missed his presence. She'd been missing him ever since he died, all those years ago, and his return hadn't lessened the ache any less.

But under the Red Hood, under the layers of rage and hurt and despair, there was the Jason she'd glimpsed tonight: _Tim's_ Jason, the laughing daredevil that had peopled Tim's dreams for years on end, brash and brave Robin, Punisher of the wicked, Protector of the helpless.

And she wanted him so badly. So, so, badly. She'd lost so many, already, so quickly and so brutally. Her father, Dana, Steph, Conner, Bart... she'd sworn she wouldn't lose anyone else. And she'd do anything to keep Jason from slipping through her fingers a second time. _Anything._

She burrowed closer, placing her hand over Jason's heart, counting the beats and syncing her breathing pattern to his own. When he reached up to close his fingers around hers, it felt good, much too good, even if he was glaring at her suspiciously, as though recognition was warring with logic in the back of his mind.

She wasn't sure she wanted him to recognize her, but she couldn't help herself when she pushed closer and leaned up to capture his lips. She caught a flash of Jason's eyes going wide before her own slipped close. But then something went awry, and he pushed her away before their mouths could touch. A slow, but deliberate gesture that reminded her of the tightly controlled way he handled some of his lowest enemies.

She stumbled back, trying to catch his eyes, but Jason's look was hard and shuttered, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His hands on her shoulders tightened, keeping her at an arm distance. He rebuked her gruffly and pushed her away, not forcefully, but with no gentleness either.

Caroline blinked back the hurt, trying to hide back behind her walls, and found them defective, destroyed. How could _he?_ She was a girl now. Not a boy, not Jason's brother, not his _replacement._ She was a civilian, not a superhero. Not an enemy. She was willing, she was available. She was everything he could ever want her to be, be it a one-night stand, a casual half-hour of harmless flirting, a rough exchange of comfort between strangers, a quick rut against a dirty wall. For all Jason knew, she could damn well be the future mother of his _children. _And _still_ he rejected her? How? Why? Was there something so unappealing in Tim, so intrinsically hideous in his form or mannerism, that it seeped through the layers of make-up and make-believe that comprised Caroline, and made her just as ugly in Jason's eyes?

She pressed a hand to her mouth, breathing against her sweaty palm. She had this sudden, illogical impulse to take out her cape, don it over her casual attire, and let Robin pound his rage out onto Jason, as if Robin and Caroline weren't one in the same. The notion was not one without appeal, especially when she remembered how Jason had never managed to turn his face from one of Robin's...

And then realization hit her. Spread, hot and tumbling, a spike of blood in her heart. It was so ridiculously _simple_. How come she hadn't realized it before?

Caroline was _not_ Robin. Tim was Robin, and Robin was Tim, but Caroline? Caroline was just some girl met in a rundown shelter in the small hours of a nondescript day. To Jason, she was no one. He had no problems turning _her_ down, this stranger who wasn't worth neither the risk nor the trouble.

But unbeknownst to Jason, Caroline _was_ Robin. She was _Tim._

As easily as Jason had just deflected her, he had never once turned away a kiss from his little bird. He moved away much too soon from each one, their mouths tingling and their breath burning in the back of their throats. He raged and heaved and cursed at Tim, only to fall into the next kiss, and the next, always hesitating a brief moment before pushing Tim away, always clinging and twining their hands, their tongues, allowing their mouths to mash and their warmth to mingle before retreating.

There was only one proper deduction for his behaviour, and only insecurity had blinded Tim to the truth for so long. All the touches, all the kisses they'd shared, as Red Hood and Tim, as Robin and Jason... every single one them... Jason had _allowed_ them.

The revelation was like a lightening bolt. It fell on Tim sudden and bright, and left him blinking quickly to regain control of his senses. As things were, it might have been either a leap of faith or the logical followup, Tim wasn't sure. But perhaps, _perhaps, _if Jason was allowing the kisses, then...

...then _Jason_ wanted Tim as much as Tim wanted _him._

"There is... are you with someone?" he asked, Caroline's voice over the rush of Tim's galloping heart.

Wearily, Jason closed his eyes, exhaled long through his nose.

"Yes. _No. _Kinda. It's..." he growled. "It's fuckin' _complicated._"

Caroline released the breath she wasn't aware to be holding, and nodded shakily, if a bit sadly, in recognition.

"The Romeo and Juliet sort of complicated?" She barely managed to add the questioning lilt at the end. Jason's weary eyes flickered towards her, and she elaborated: "You love each other, but something in your past is keeping you apart."

The look on Jason's face was part angry, part stricken, thinly veiled by fake amusement.

"So _not_ that sort, New face." He paused. Family strife aside, his..._thing_ with Tim was nothing like the Shakespearian tragedy. Was it? Besides, "I'm not letting either one of us die," he flung at her as he shrugged his jacket on, not bothering with the turtle-neck.

Caroline fought off a chill of foreboding at his words, watching numbly as Jason pocketed a couple rolls of dressing and some tape from the emesis basin. He turned towards her when he was a the door, and smirked. He gave her a two-finger salute.

"Bye, New face. Forget about Romeos and find yourself a good man, 'kay?"

Caroline bit her bottom lip, moved onto the window and stared into the night until she could see the shadowed shape of Red Hood leap out of the building and swing onto the opposite rooftop, bandages glittering white in the darkness.

"I already have, Jay," she whispered to his fading image, voice stripped of every artefact. Her breath fogged the glass, obscuring Caroline's face until only the eyes were visible, and they were Tim's eyes, determined and bright, if a bit wistful. "He just won't _listen_ when I tell him_."_

**~*~****おわり****~*~**


End file.
